CHAPTER 145: A BITTER HOMECOMING

Bright gulped, reading the name mentioned once again. His mind, a frantic, disorganized thing. But before he could even continue reading the letter, his alarm started ringing, a loud, jarring sound that pulled him out of his emotional spiral.

He clicked his tongue, a small, frustrated sound, before standing up, his body a weary, resigned thing. He carefully put the letter in his drawer, a gentle gesture, and walked towards the portal that appeared before him. The shimmering, ethereal light, a beautiful contradiction to the mundane world of his apartment, was now a familiar, tedious part of his life.

The young man walked through the portal and he was immediately greeted by classical music playing in the background, a soft, beautiful sound that was a stark, brutal contrast to the cold, distant aura of the man in front of him. The man, a cold, elegant, and powerful presence, was sitting on a swivel chair while humming along to the music.

"What is it?" Bright asked, his voice a low, tired murmur.

The man, a figure of quiet power, turned around, facing Bright, and a smile instantly formed on his face.

"Well, hello there, my little Bright. I heard you received a letter from a very special someone."

The man whose name was Aegis, the founder of the group æons, a cold, elegant, and terrifyingly powerful presence, had eyes that were a muddy brown, a cold, unreadable color that held no warmth, no light, no humanity.

Bright raised an eyebrow, a cold, skeptical light in his eyes. "How did you know that? Did you plant a spy on me?"

Aegis ignored Bright’s question. He grazed the table with his hand, a slow, deliberate motion, as his muddy brown eyes landed on Bright. "I have my ways. It’s been a while since you last went here, you know your mother misses Eirin. She’s the only one you talk about after all for years."

Bright glared at the man, a furious and utterly futile protest. "She went somewhere far."

"It is not as far as you think it is, boy," Aegis said, his voice a low, knowing murmur that was a confession of a secret he should not have.

Bright shook his head, a furious motion that was a futile attempt to deny the terrifying truth that was not laid bare before him.

"I’m going to my mother—and you better stop calling me on a whim like that."

Bright didn’t hesitate to leave, his body a frantic, determined thing, his mind a chaotic mess of confusion, worry, and a new, terrifying hope. He walked out of Aegis’s room, leaving the cold air behind. He stepped into the hallway, a space filled with a soft, ethereal light and the subtle, hushed sound of the palace.

People he passed by turned, their faces a mix of respect and deference, greeting him with silent, respectful nods as if he had graced them with his presence. Bright, his body a tired, weary thing, simply nodded back, his gaze fixed on the end of the hallway, where a humongous white door stood. He reached the door, its cool, smooth surface a stark contrast to the chaos of his mind.

As soon as he opened it, a different kind of atmosphere greeted him. The air was softer, warmer, filled with the gentle, fresh scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass.

A young maid, her face a kind, gentle thing, turned to him from her post inside the room. "Young master, you’re back. I shall prepare tea for the lady and the young master."

The young man, his shoulders still tense, forced a small, soft smile as his eyes landed on the woman sitting on the sofa in the veranda. Her back was to him, but the sight of her, a fragile figure against the vast, open sky, filled him with gentle affection.

The young maid, with a small, respectful bow, left the room leaving him alone with the most important person in his life.

Bright began walking towards the veranda, his footsteps heavy against the polished stone floor, his eyes glued on the woman sitting out there, staring at the sky. Unlike where he was before, it was morning there, and the woman, a quiet, peaceful presence, stared at the clouds floating in the blue sky. Her straight, black hair, a beautiful contrast to her soft, pale skin, reached her shoulders and fluttered softly in the gentle breeze.

Even with his loud footsteps, the woman didn’t turn around, her gaze still fixed on the sky, as if she couldn’t hear anything but the silence.

"Mom," Bright said, his voice a soft, gentle murmur, but still, she didn’t turn.

Bright continued walking until he reached the veranda himself. He stood beside her, his gaze landing below, where he saw people training, their bodies a blur of light and energy. The sight, so full of power, was a direct, brutal contradiction to the mundane world of his apartment.

Bright gently touched the woman’s shoulder, a soft, deliberate motion, causing the woman to jolt in surprise as she turned to him, her moon-shaped black eyes wide with disbelief. A bright, genuine smile flashed on her face as she immediately pulled the young man into a hug, her arms a warm, loving, and comforting embrace. She rubbed his back, a slow, gentle motion, as if she was comforting him from all the troubles he had to go through.

When the woman pulled away, she started doing signs through her hands, her movements, graceful and fluid, making Bright smile as he nodded. The woman was deaf, and that woman was Bright Goodwin’s mother. Despite her inability to hear, she could understand the world around her, her eyes a keen, powerful weapon that could read his every expression, every gesture, every silent thought.

"How have you been, my son?" she signed.1

Bright smiled, a genuine, loving thing, as he answered through his mouth. "I’ve been fine, mom. I’m sorry if I couldn’t come visit every day. Aegis keeps me busy."

The woman watched how his mouth formed every word, her eyes a sharp light that could read the silent language of his lips. Her smile grew wider, a radiant, thing that was filled with quiet joy. She started talking through her hands once again.

"It is fine, my son. Would you tell your mother how your day went? Tell me everything."

Bright smiled as he talked about his usual mundane life, a lie that was a proof of his love for her. He didn’t want his mother to worry, so he tried to keep it seeming like he was loving every single one of his days, that he was thriving, that he was happy. He painted a picture of a normal, happy life, a fiction that was a contradiction to his own truth.

"What about Eirin? Where is she now? I miss seeing her pretty face."

The smile on Bright’s face slowly vanished, a fragile, fading light, as his eyes landed on his mother’s shoes. They were a pair of comfortable, yet elegant shoes, a cold, hard reminder of the man he hated. The man who had given them to her, the man who had torn his family apart.

"Why are you wearing the shoes that man gave you?" he muttered, his voice a low, bitter sound. His mother couldn’t see his mouth at all, thus unable to learn of what he said.

Bright looked up, his face a perfect mask of affection, and showed his gentle and soft smile once again. "She went somewhere far, but I received a letter from her. She’s doing fine with her new friends, and she seems happy." The words, though true in a sense, felt like a lie, a betrayal of the lonely truth of his heart.

The woman smiled and tilted her head, a curious light in her eyes. "Do you not miss her?"

Bright used his sign language, a gentle, sad motion of his hands, admitting how much he misses Eirin, how much the days felt empty without her. Seeing him all gloomy made his mother feel his heart with him.

The woman pulled Bright into a hug, a warm, comforting embrace, comforting him by rubbing his back with her gentle hand. Despite the gentle and caring gesture, Bright’s mind was in chaos. He couldn’t get rid of the name he read back in Eirin’s letter. He didn’t want to keep thinking about it, but it kept flashing through his head.

Bright sat beside his mother. Although the weather was great, he couldn’t feel it. He usually feels happy whenever he’s with his mother, but he couldn’t do it now.

"Do you not feel good, Bright, dear?"

Bright shook his head as he forced a smile. He didn’t want to continue speaking, thus continuing his sign language, making his mother proud.

"It is normal for us to miss someone. You know that. It’s been a while, but it gets better with time."

Bright balled his fists, a tight, sense knot of aching frustration, his mood turning sour as he knew where the conversation was going. But he couldn’t possibly cut his mother off when she’s the only one left for him.

"I know... you miss your husband... and my older brother." He signed.

The woman began talking about them, and Bright didn’t act surprised, he couldn’t. He grew up hearing about them to the point that he could imagine how the two looked in his head.

"Your brother must be as tall as you. Maybe even taller because he’s older than you," the woman giggled as she touched Bright’s shoulder. "A friend said he was doing well, and he got tons of friends where he is now. It makes me so happy."

Bright forced a smile. "Of course. You said he was someone kind and caring. He’ll surely gain lots of friends with that personality."

The woman smiled. "You do remember your brother’s name, don’t you?"

Bright nodded. He wondered, how would he forget, if he’s the only one his mother would talk about whenever he’s not saying anything about Eirin.

"I do remember. It’s..." Bright signed.

"Shade Cromwell."

"Shade Cromwell."

Italic quotations are said in sign language